A Helping Hand
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: All Draco Malfoy really needs in life is someone to lend a helping hand.
1. Chapter 1

So, I've been writing this story now for about a week and a half (just started working on chapter 6!) I will admit, I kind of have no idea where it's going, but I'm sure I'll find my way.

DISCLAIMER - I own nothing! Suing will get you nowhere!

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Chapter 1  
News of Lucius Malfoy's death spread like wildfire throughout the wizarding world. It had been the leading headline in the morning paper - Lucius Malfoy, Death by Firewhiskey. Draco Malfoy, the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune, sat in a seedy bar in Knockturn Alley staring at the newspaper. The papers had not gotten their story wrong. In fact, it was the most on the nose piece of journalism he had ever read in the rag.

To his right were four empty glasses turned upside down on the bar. Draco frowned; had he really already drunk four tumblers of firewhiskey? And now there was a fresh glass in front of him. "Like father, like son," he muttered to himself as he downed the fifth drink.

The door to the pub opened as a raucous group of men entered. Draco ordered another drink, muttering to himself about the unruly trash who were allowed in the establishment. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, spinning him around on his stool.

"Got something to say, wise guy?" A tall, well muscled man with olive skin and intimidatingly dark eyes towered over him. The man crooked a smile when he realized who he was threatening. "Ah, the Malfoy boy. Following in his daddy's footsteps all the way to the grave."

A lazy smirk quirked up the right side of Draco's mouth. It didn't seem to bother him that the man standing over him was taller and at least twice his weight. He was just too drunk to care.

"Well, if we're following in our fathers' footsteps, yours must have lived in a gutter," the blonde quipped, lifting his glass to his lips. He finished the burning, amber liquid in one swift sip before depositing the glass on the bar top. His senses were dulled from the several shots of firewhiskey, so he didn't react when the angry man pulled back a fist and let it connect with Draco's jaw.

The drunk blonde fell back against the bar, but the hoodlum wasn't done with him. And now, it seemed, his friends wanted in on the action, as well. Draco felt the blow to his left eye, felt the skin around his eyebrow crack open. Blood trickled down from his lip and coated his teeth. But he didn't care, he didn't move, didn't fight back.

Blackness was beginning to swim through his mind from the firewhiskey and repeated blows, and Draco welcomed it. He waited for unconsciousness to completely claim him until he could feel nothing, hear nothing, see nothing. Just as he was slipping under, he felt the sensation of hands on his arms, pulling him towards only God knew where. His skin felt numb, yet achy, as this mysterious savior dragged him out of the fray. A wave of nausea swept over him as the familiar tug of Apparition took hold of him and whoever had a hold on him.

It was warmer now, wherever he was. Soft light turned the insides of his eyes orange. Cool fingers poked and prodded at his injuries, but Draco felt nothing but the digits.

"Is he gonna be okay?" someone asked quietly. Draco swore he knew the voice. If only he could sober up long enough to place a name with the deep timbre.

"He'll be fine," another man said. "Just a few stitches necessary. You should have woken her up. She's much better at healing spells than I am."

"Sorry, Neville," the first man murmured. "I didn't want to wake her. Besides, with their history, she might have just added to his injuries."

The man he called Neville chuckled. "Too true," he said, his voice shaking with laughter. Draco wondered if it was Longbottom tending to his wounds. "Although, I'm sure you know he and I have quite the history too."

"Yeah, but you're way less stubborn," the first man pointed out, laughter in his own voice as well. "You think he could stay here the night? I wasn't sure if he was still living at the Manor or if he'd taken up permanent residence on that bar stool."

Draco listened to the silence that passed between the two men. Surely Neville Longbottom wouldn't toss his drunk and bloodied hide out into the snow, not in his state of semiconsciousness.

Neville sighed deeply. "I guess," he muttered. "I'm not telling her though. You brought the puppy home, you have to walk him."

"Not a puppy," Draco grumbled. His throat was sore and there was a coppery taste on his tongue. It hurt to speak, but he felt the need to defend himself against Longbottom's words.

The first man, the one who had brought him home, laughed uproariously. "So, you are alive, Malfoy," he declared. "Good to know Neville's talents weren't going to waste on a corpse."

"Fuck off," Draco raspily mumbled.

He heard what he thought was a wand fall to a table before Neville spoke. "This is the best I can do. I say we get him to bed and have Hermione fix him up in the morning."

"Granger?" Draco asked, squeezing his eyes tighter together.

"Yeah, Hermione Granger," Neville confirmed. He lifted Draco's left arm, looping it around his shoulder, while the mystery man did the same with his right. He was moving down a short hallway before the pair stopped and opened a door. It was several seconds before they moved again, easing Draco down onto the floor.

"He's not throwing up in my bed," the familiar-sounding man said defensively. A pillow was slipped under Draco's head before a blanket was draped over him. "Sleep well, Malfoy." The door closed, throwing the room into total darkness.

For hours, Draco tossed and turned, totally unable to get comfortable on the hardwood floor beneath him. His head spun with each little movement, his stomach churning as he forced the contents of his stomach to remain there. With a groan, he slowly pulled himself into a seated position. He found himself near the foot of a queen-sized bed, its owner slumbering away. Though his snores were soft, they sounded so much louder in Draco's booze addled ears.

He needed out.

Stumbling to his feet, Draco rose and exited the room, careful not to slam the door behind him. Once in the hall, he surveyed his options. There were two doors across from the bedroom he was in, and another next to it. One of the doors across was open, giving Draco full view of the bathroom. He would have to remember it for later. He turned to his right, placing his hand against the wall for balance. Slowly, he walked to the bedroom next door and entered.

The bed in the center of the room looked comfortable and inviting. Inching along, he used his left hand to guide him around the bed, feeling the soft comforter beneath his fingers. He pulled it back and climbed in. He stayed near the edge, careful not to get too near to the sleeping form. With a deep sigh, Draco closed his eyes and fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the reviews for chapter 1! My manager was out yesterday, so I went kinda nuts writing. I just started working on chapter 10 this morning. Must. Stop. Slacking.

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Chapter 2  
Hermione Granger was a heavy sleeper. She had slept through the goings on of the night before, and awoke rested. And confused. A strange arm was draped casually over her waist and she could feel someone breathing against her neck. A bit of wandless magic turned on the lamp on her bedside table, casting a soft glow of warm yellow light around the room. She turned over to see Draco Malfoy at her side.

How had Malfoy ended up in her bed, she wondered, her panic level rising. The night before had blessed her with an empty apartment for the first time in weeks. Her evening was spent by the fire with a book and a cup of tea, before she turned in early. She hadn't even heard her roommates return by the time she fell asleep. She needed answers, and she need them immediately. She shook Draco awake, harder than need be.

Draco groaned and turned onto his side, his back now facing her. Hermione shook him again, threatening to push him out of her bed. He blinked several times before finally opening his eyes. A look of shock crossed his face when he turned back to her and noticed, for the first time, where he had fallen asleep.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione demanded. "And in my bed?"

She scrambled away, tripping on the blankets as they slid from the mattress. Draco sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes with the heels of his hands. He winced as he ground his hand into his cut eyebrow.

"I don't know," he replied groggily. "I need a potion for this hangover."

Hermione scoffed. "It might surprise you, but I have no idea what to give you for that."

"That does not surprise me in the slightest, Granger," he drawled. He watched with terrified eyes as Hermione picked up her wand and pointed it at him. "Please don't hurt me," he begged.

Her eyes narrowed on him and her mouth set into a straight line. With a swish and flick of her wand, she healed much of his injured face before slipping her wand into the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She left the room, slamming the door behind her. To hell with it if she woke her roommates. She threw open the door next to her room and turned on the lights.

"Get up," she demanded. The sleeping man rolled over and blinked at her. "I want answers. Now."

"Answers to what?" Neville asked, joining them.

"Answers to why I awoke to Draco Malfoy groping me in his sleep," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Start talking, Adrian."

With a sigh, Adrian Pucey sat up and explained the events of the previous evening. He had gone to the pub after a long day at work, intent on having one drink and returning home. He had walked in just as the fight broke out, and when he noticed it was Draco in the fray, did what he could to pull him out.

"So, he got drunk and started a bar fight," Hermione summed up, taking a seat at the foot of Adrian's bed. He nodded in confirmation and pulled himself out of bed. "I healed wounds acquired from a drunken brawl. I should go punch him in the face myself."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Neville pointed out, smiling at his friend. Hermione cracked a smile, remembering the time she had slapped him in their third year at Hogwarts. "Hermione's got a pretty mean right hook," Neville added for Adrian's benefit.

Adrian nodded. "Believe me, I know. She hit me on our third date."

"Only because you deserved it," she retorted, smiling sweetly.

Neville shook his head. "I'm making breakfast," he decided. Hermione followed him to the kitchen and was surprised to find Draco already there, seated (in her chair) at the kitchen table.

"Up," she said to him. Draco remained seated, and she repeated the command twice more.

"It's just like your broom back in first year," Draco remarked. "You say up but it just doesn't work."

She grabbed his ear and yanked him up, slipping into her chair before he could sit back down.

Draco took a seat across from her and rubbed his ear. "I thought you were supposed to be the nice one," he mumbled. He soon forgot the stinging to his ear as his mouth watered. Neville set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon and a mug of coffee in front of Hermione. He made a second plate when Adrian joined them, and then helped himself. The three roommates ate silently as Draco stared at them each in turn. "What about me?" he asked.

Hermione glanced up from her plate. "Fridge is over there," she replied, pointing her fork at the icebox to her right.

Adrian covered his mouth with his napkin to stifle the laughing cough he produced. Neville's brown eyes flicked from Draco to Hermione and back, waiting for the next move. Draco scowled at the witch, but went to the ice box to find himself some breakfast. He closed the door with a dramatic sigh, and turned to table's occupants.

"There's no food," he proclaimed.

Neville turned in his chair to face Draco, his brows wrinkled in confusion. "That's not possible," he responded. "I was just at the market yesterday."

Draco rolled his gray eyes impatiently. "There is food, but it all requires some kind of preparation," he explained, as if it were the simplest concept.

"There's cereal in the cabinet. Do you know how to pour?" Hermione inquired. With a sarcastic laugh directed at her, Draco demonstrated his ability to pour cereal and milk into a bowl.

Adrian rose first, taking his and Hermione's empty plates to the sink. "Could I talk to the two of you in private?" he asked, directing the question to his roommates. Neville and Hermione nodded and followed him to his bedroom. Adrian rubbed at the back of neck, nervous to voice his concern.

"What's wrong, mate?" Neville asked.

"Someone's gotta stay with him," Adrian replied, looking anywhere but at Hermione.

Hermione shook her. "I'm not doing it," she declared defiantly. It was bad enough she had to wake up next to him. Malfoy might not survive the day if he had to spend it with her.

"Rock, paper, scissors," Adrian suggested. Hermione begrudgingly agreed and threw scissor to their rocks.

"Oh, please, best two out of three?" she begged, holding onto Neville's arm as he tried to leave the room.

Her fellow Gryffindor smiled and shook his head. "Gotta get to work anyhow," he replied.

She turned pleading eyes on Adrian; eyes she knew would bend him to her every whim. "Not going to work this time, Granger," he replied in a sing-song tone of voice. "Don't kill him."

Hermione watched as both men stepped into the floo, calling out for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Groaning, she returned to the kitchen and her old school enemy.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everybody! Those of you who are reading "The Wish" know that I posted yesterday that I was sick. I'm feeling about 50% better today, just well enough to go to work. It would have been a major bummer if I had to stay home again today as I would have missed a free lunch with a vendor I never use! But free food is free food, and I'll take it! Anywho, enough of my digression; on with the story!

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Chapter 3  
Draco pulled the discarded newspaper to him, frowning when he saw yet another headline about his father. His mouth felt dry. Checking behind him to make sure he was still alone, Draco stood and walked over to the refrigerator. He needed to quench his sudden thirst. Deciding there was nothing in the ice box that would sate his needs, he opened a small cabinet just above it. Inside, were several bottles of alcohol. He grabbed the first one he could reach and unscrewed the top.

The kitchen door swung open just as the mouth of the bottle touched his lips.

"Don't you dare," Hermione warned; a perfect imitation of Molly Weasley. She marched up to him and snatched the bottle out of his hand. His eyes pleaded with her, but Hermione was unwavering. "It's far too early in the day for something like this. Besides, I thought you were hungover."

Draco reached for the bottle, but she held it out of his grasp. "I am, and this helps," he replied.

Scoffing, she screwed the lid back on the bottle and placed it behind her on the counter. "Why do you even need to drink, Malfoy?" she wondered.

A smart remark was on the tip of his tongue, but the way she asked the question, the way her voice sounded so concerned for him, made him change his mind. He sighed and took a seat (her seat) at the table.

"Helps me forget," he told her.

Hermione sunk down into Neville's chair. "Forget what?"

"Everything," he replied, shaking his head until his light blonde hair was in disarray. "Absolutely everything. My mother's murder, the war, my father's death. Everything."

She leaned back in her chair and murmured a soft, "Oh." He looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to stand and hand him the bottle of vodka he'd retrieved from the cabinet. "I'm not going to give it to you," she told him, reading the want on his face. With a flick of her wand, the bottle was back in its cabinet and locked.

Draco stared at the cabinet, willing it to open on its own. Silence passed between the pair as each waited for the other to speak.

"I'm sorry I wandered into your bed last night," he finally said, his eyes moving away from the liquor cabinet to settle on her. "Pucey's floor is ridiculously uncomfortable."

Hermione laughed, causing Draco to frown. "No, it's just...I had a mental image of you sneaking into Neville's room instead of mine," she replied, her shoulders shaking with each peal of laughter. "Honestly though, so long as it doesn't happen again, it's fine."

Draco nodded and rose from his seat. Just as quickly, Hermione was on her feet, blocking him from the liquor cabinet. He sat back down, staring at his sock-clad feet. Where had his shoes gone?

"Don't you have work?" he asked, a hint of irritation in his voice.

"No, I took the day off," she replied, not letting on that the reason for wasting a personal day was to babysit a grown man. A snort was his only response. "Very gentleman-like, Malfoy."

"So, how did you lose?" he asked. Hermione furrowed her brow. "Whatever game the three of you played to determine who watched me today, how did you lose it?"

"I threw scissors," she muttered. It was now Draco's turn to look confused. "It's a game - rock, paper, scissors. Adrian and Neville threw rock, which beats scissors. And so, here we are."

"Here we are," he agreed. "What do we do now?"

The witch shrugged and exited the kitchen, not waiting for Draco to follow. He glanced at the shrine of liquor above the refrigerator, wondering how he could access it without a wand. Deciding it would be impossible, given Hermione's skill with magic, he left the kitchen in search of her.

"Reading. I should have known," he muttered, spotting her in the living room, curled up on the couch with a book in her hands. The book remained closed in her hands, though. Draco took a seat in an armchair across from her, watching as she turned the book around and around in her hands. "Why do you live with Longbottom and Pucey?"

Hermione glanced up, wide eyed. She hadn't expected him to ask. "Oh, well, I was looking for a flat, as was Neville. We found this place, leased it. Adrian and I started dating, and stayed friends when we broke up. He needed a place to stay, so he took the spare room," she explained as succinctly as possible.

Draco leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his thighs. "Shouldn't you be rooming with Potter and Weasley?"

She shook her head. "Harry got married to Ginny Weasley, Ron's sister," she replied. "And Ron and I, well, it didn't work out."

He sat back, placing his arms on the arms of the chair. Hermione's love life had been prime headlines following the war. It was greatly assumed by the whole of the wizarding world that she was on her way to being Hermione Weasley. Ron's and her love was supposed to be the stuff of fairy tales, but when it ended rumors began to fly. He cheated, she refused to commit, the famous Harry Potter forbade their romance. Draco hadn't believed a word of it, not that he cared about the Golden Trio.

"Do you do this every night?" she asked softly, pulling his away from his thoughts. "Drink to forget, I mean."

Draco nodded somberly. "I should go home," he decided, pushing himself out of the chair. "I'm sure you don't want me hanging around all day. No point to it, really."

Hermione said nothing, merely watched him cross over to the fireplace. He glanced back at her once more as he grabbed the small pot of floo powder. Just as he was about to toss the powder in, she stopped him.

"Malfoy, I-," she took a deep breath. "Just come back if you need anything, anything at all."

He nodded. "I'll think about it," he mumbled in reply. Then he stepped into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor," he called out, clearly and distinctly. Hermione squinted against the green flames that enveloped him, taking him home.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
Malfoy Manor was cold, dark, and empty when Draco stepped out of the hearth. Each room he passed through held a particularly vivid memory, and none of them were good. The dining room had been a place of torture and death. Hermione Granger had been Crucio'd in the main sitting room. Voldemort's disgusting snake had slithered over every inch of the house, including Draco's bed. The kitchens were the only safe place, the only place the Dark Lord never ventured during his stay with the Malfoy family.

And so, that was where Draco found himself. No house elves lived in the Manor anymore, not since the war. The Ministry of Magic had stripped the Malfoys of many of their luxuries for their participation as Death Eaters. It had been Draco who had taken up many of the menial, everyday tasks, and he hated each one. He searched the cabinets for anything to eat, but gave up when he arrived in front of a bottle of muggle whiskey. It wasn't as strong as firewhiskey, but Draco knew it would do the trick.

He sunk down to the tiled floor, his back resting against a cabinet, as he unscrewed the top and took a long pull. The whiskey burned his sensitive throat, but it tasted good. A few sips later, and his mind began to go fuzzy. He was letting go of everything he wanted gone from his memory.

The one thing he couldn't let go of was the sound of Hermione's voice as she asked him to come back. Leave it to Hermione Granger to want to help everyone, Draco thought to himself bitterly as he took another swig from the bottle. She was supposed to hate him, and had managed to do so for years. But now, now she wanted him to come to her with his problems.

He glanced down at the bottle and noticed it was almost empty. Stumbling to his feet, he pulled a bottle of gin from the cabinet. After two more bottles were polished off, Draco pulled himself to his feet, wobbling as he gripped the counter for support.

"Where'd the sun go?" he slurred, looking out the kitchen window. For several minutes, he groped around for parchment and something with which to write. He frowned when he couldn't quite make the words meet the page, but eventually his hand worked. The note was messily scrawled, but it was the best he would be able to do in his drunken condition. Stumbling through the house, he called his owl, Zeus, to him and sent the bird off into the night.

A sharp tap on her bedroom window pulled Hermione out of her early slumber. Her bed was littered with books and work-related documents. She pushed herself up and felt for the lamp on her bedside table. A large white owl was perched on her windowsill, waiting for her to allow it entrance. She pushed the window up and took the note attached to the owl's leg.

The handwriting was messy, words were misspelled, and the thoughts were incoherent. But Hermione knew it was from Draco, even before she finished reading it. He wanted her to come to him; he needed her. The desire to scream at him for drinking won out over her desire to help him. Grabbing her wand, she marched to the living room and took the floo to Malfoy Manor.

The house was dark and cold when she arrived. "Malfoy!" she yelled. The parlor doors slid open. Draco leaned against the door jamb, a thin trickle of blood down the left side of his face. Hermione made it to his side in quick strides, examining the wound. "Did you get into another fight?"

Draco shook his head, though her hands cupping his face made his range of motion short. "Hit my head," he mumbled.

"Yeah, looks like you just reopened a cut from last night," she agreed. Pulling out her wand, she traced the length of the cut and softly murmured a spell to close it. When she was finished, she led him over to a sofa and helped him sit down. "How much have you had to drink, Malfoy?"

Slowly, almost painfully, he opened his eyes, squinting at the brunette sitting on the coffee table in front of him. "Not much," he muttered, letting his head fall back against the top of the couch. "Found some hangover potion, so I took it. I'm sorry I bothered you."

Hermione moved to sit beside him. His eyes fell to her lap where she fiddled with her hands. "It's fine," she replied. "I just...I wish you wouldn't do this to yourself."

Draco angled his body closer to hers, his hand resting gently on her forearm. "Why do you care?" he wondered, his eyes now completely open.

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to formulate an answer. "I don't know," she said. "I just do. What were you trying to forget tonight?"

"You," he whispered, leaning in close enough until he could kiss her. His eyes remained open enough to see the look of sheer surprise on Hermione's face. Her brown eyes were full and wide, and he could see the beginnings of a crimson flush flare in her cheeks. Her lips moved beneath his until he tried to deepen the kiss. With her free hand she pushed him away and jumped up.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she demanded, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Gods, Malfoy, other than merely existing, what have I ever done to you? You blame your binge drinking on me and then you kiss me? What is going on inside of your twisted, little head?"

It wasn't the reaction he had expected. Though, given it was Hermione Granger whom he had kissed, he should have. He rose from the couch, taking cautious steps towards her. After all, she was still armed. His hands held up in surrender, he tried to answer her questions.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," he said. "It's...what you said to me earlier, no one's ever..."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Ever what, Malfoy?" she asked, feeling her patience with him wane.

He took another step toward her, his hands falling to his sides when he reached her. "Cared," he finished, his voice just above an incredulous whisper.

Whatever resolve Hermione had crumbled with his final word. Her arms fell to her side as she closed the distance between them. "That can't be true," she murmured, touching his wrist. "There must be someone who cares about you."

Draco produced a mirthless laugh, staring at her hand the whole time. "Besides you, I can't think of anyone," he retorted. "My mother was the only one, and she was killed for protecting your friend."

Hermione flinched from the harshness of his words. She had never even known that Narcissa Malfoy had died at the Battle of Hogwarts. Her arms wound around his neck. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Draco," she whispered in his ear.

He held her close, his face pressed into her neck. He never wanted to let go. The need for human contact was just too great to let Hermione slip away now. Picking his head up, their eyes connected. Testing the waters, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. When she didn't pull away, his lips ventured down to her left cheek, then moved to the right. Hermione turned her head so that, instead of him kissing her cheek, he got her lips. He smiled into the kiss, glad that he was just sober enough that he would remember it when she left him. It was she who deepened the kiss, tracing her tongue along his bottom lip until he granted her the access she sought. Their tongues met, performing an intricate dance, as Draco's hands toyed with the hem of her shirt.

She did nothing to stop his movements even as he led her to his room.


	5. Chapter 5

This chapter is for cookiemonsterz101, who said that another chapter would save her life. I just couldn't have that on my conscience. Enjoy the chapter!

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Chapter 5  
The next morning, Hermione awoke as rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains. Beside her, Draco slept peacefully, his arm wrapped around her waist. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, knowing she wore nothing beneath them. He began to stir, rolling onto his other side. Hermione looked around for her clothes, ready to make her escape. Draco rolled onto his back, squinting against the sun as he opened his eyes. There was no possibility of making it out without him seeing her now.

"You like art, don't you?" he asked, propping himself up on his arms. Hermione stared strangely at him, but nodded. Draco said nothing as he got out of bed, stretching his arms up over his head. "Then you know the difference between nude and naked."

"Where are you going with this, Malfoy?" she asked, hugging the blankets closer.

He scanned his hand over his form. "Nude," he replied with a smirk. Then pointed to her. "Naked. You're ashamed."

She scoffed. "I am not ashamed," she argued. And to prove it, she tucked the top of the blanket underneath her arms.

Draco laughed. "Right, my mistake," he muttered. She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom with a change of clothes. This was her chance to get dressed and get out of there.

By the time he exited the bathroom and returned to his bedroom, Hermione was dressed and ready to go home. "Are you working today?" he asked. Hermione nodded, wishing she could read his emotions when he was sober. Did he regret the night they had spent together? Was he greatly disgusted to wake up with a mudblood in his bed? Was he hoping she would stay? "Great, well, I guess I'll see you the next time I get wasted," was his only reply.

Hermione felt her face turn pink. "So, then tonight?" she quipped, resting her hand on the doorknob. In response, he merely shrugged. The door was open now, and Hermione was ready to go before another thought popped into her mind. "Listen, Neville's cooking dinner tonight. He's really a great cook. You should come by. It might be good to put something in your stomach besides booze."

Again, Draco shrugged. "I'll think about it," he replied nonchalantly. "See you, Granger."

She nodded and closed his bedroom door behind her. "Yeah, see you," she murmured, frowning as she left.

Draco waited until he was sure she had left before leaving his bedroom. He had slept with Hermione Granger; more than slept with Hermione Granger. He laughed; old Lucius must have been rolling in his grave. But it couldn't happen again. He couldn't allow it to happen again. A bottle of gin sat on the kitchen counter. He needed to forget the spirited former Gryffindor.

Hermione sneaked quietly through the apartment, hoping Adrian and Neville were still asleep.

"And where have you been?" an amused voice asked.

Hermione tensed. She knew it wouldn't be so easy. She turned to see Adrian standing in the doorway to his room. Plastering a flirtatious smile on her face, Hermione turned to her ex-boyfriend.

"I forgot my watch. Couldn't get to a floo. Time flies when you're having fun," came her excuses. Adrian merely frowned at her. "Are you really that concerned about my whereabouts?" she asked cheekily.

Adrian reached out for her hand, pulling her to him. His lips attached to her neck. "Of course I still care about you. You know you just have to say the word, Hermione, and we could be together again," he breathed against her skin.

Hermione wound her arms around his neck. "Hmm, we could be together again," she agreed, making her voice as sultry as she could. She pulled away from him all too quickly for his liking and let her voice return to its usual pitch. "If only you could have kept it in your pants." Turning on her heel, she entered the bathroom.

Across the hall, Neville opened his door. He laughed when he saw the dumbfounded expression Adrian wore. "Why are you two still friends?" he wondered with a smile on his face.

"She loves me," Adrian confidently replied. "She just doesn't know it yet."

"That...doesn't seem right," Neville replied, furrowing his brow as he led his roommate to the kitchen. Adrian took a seat while Neville moved around the kitchen preparing breakfast. Just as he finished stacking pancakes onto three plates, Hermione joined them. She was dressed for work, but her back was stained with water as her long curly locks soaked through the fabric. With a wave of her wand, she dried her hair and her shirt before cutting into her breakfast. Neville took a seat beside her and the trio ate quietly.

Impervious to the suspicious smiles the boys wore, Hermione wolfed down her breakfast. Standing up, she dropped her plate in the sink and turned to leave.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, Draco might be joining us for dinner," she announced in one long breath. Before either Adrian or Neville could comment, she exited the kitchen and took the floo to work.

Adrian cleared the rest of the plates and turned on the tap. "Do you think that's where she was last night?" he asked, a hint of concern in his tone. But Neville thought he heard jealousy, and let him know it. "I'm not jealous. I just worry about her. Besides, she's been your friend a hell of a lot longer. Shouldn't you be worried that she's palling around with Malfoy now? I mean, she smelled like him this morning, for Merlin's sake. Booze and French cologne."

Leaning with his back against the counter, Neville shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione's one of my best friends, and I trust her. But she's also ridiculously stubborn, which you know. If she thinks it's safe to be friends with him, then there's little we can do to stop her."

"And when he hurts her?" Adrian inquired, slamming his hand against the edge of the sink in frustration. He didn't bother to say it out loud, but Adrian knew they were both thinking that Malfoy would hurt her just as he had.

Neville sighed. "Then she has friends who are here to help pick up the pieces."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
Dinner was on the table by the time Hermione returned home from work. The smells of pot roast and garlic mashed potatoes wafted through the living room as her nose led her to the meal Neville had prepared. Pushing the kitchen door open, a small part of her hoped to find Draco sitting at their table. But when she stepped inside, she was greeted only by her roommates.

"Smells good, Nev," she said, trying to keep her tone positive. But it was always her eyes that betrayed her.

"You were hoping he'd show up," Adrian guessed, sulking as he took his seat.

Hermione shot him a withering glare as she replied, "I couldn't care one way or the other if Malfoy comes."

Adrian was about to reply, but Neville cut him off as he placed the roast on the table. "So, Mione, how was work today?" he asked, hoping to avoid the subject of Draco Malfoy for the rest of the evening. And he was successful. She told them about a small werewolf issue the Ministry was having. The men discussed the upcoming term at Hogwarts where they both taught; Neville in Herbology and Adrian in Charms. Hermione had always joked with him that Charms was a natural choice for the suave former Slytherin.

The table was cleaned off, the dishes washed, and the lights shut off in the kitchen when Hermione retired to her bedroom. Adrian had gone out to meet a friend and Neville was holed up in his room with work. Neither heard the floo activate or footsteps fall on the hardwood floors of the hallway. It wasn't until Hermione heard her doorknob turn, that she armed herself.

"Petrificus Totalis!" she yelled as a figure pushed open her door. The intruder fell to the floor. With her wand still poised, Hermione neared the still figure. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?" she asked, lifting the curse.

Draco sat up, rubbing the back of his head where it had hit the floor. "I was invited to dinner," he grumbled, ignoring her outstretched hand to help him to his feet. When he righted himself, he noticed that his right leg felt wet. Glancing down and squinting in the dim light of her room, Draco noticed that the leg of his pants was red. "Is that blood?" he asked. "Am I bleeding?"

Hermione looked down at his leg and paled. "Was there something in your pocket?" she asked, her voice rising with panic that she had really and truly hurt him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a miniaturized bottle of red wine. There was a small crack in the glass, just enough to cause it to leak but not hurt him. Hermione took a steadying breath and sat down on her bed. "Wine, Draco?"

"What? It's good manners to bring a gift when someone invites you to dinner," he lectured. "Or didn't your muggle parents teach you that?"

"Didn't your wonderful pureblood parents teach you that when you're invited to dinner you're supposed to show up on time?" she retorted, glaring at him.

Draco let out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just gonna leave," he decided, no longer having any desire to be near her. "It's was stupid of you to invite me, and it was stupid of me to show up."

Hermione watched him walk out her door and waited to hear the sounds of the floo. But they didn't come. Curiosity got the best of her, and she made her way to the living room. "You're still here," she said, a touch of irritation in her voice.

Draco looked at her with wide eyes, taking in the smirk she wore as her arms crossed over her chest. "Yeah," was all he said.

"Are you leaving now?" she inquired, letting the smirk hitch up her lips a bit more.

"Are you sorry about last night?" he asked, taking a hesitant step closer to her. "I mean do you regret what we did?"

"I don't know. Do you?" she asked in reply.

Suddenly the space between them started to close as Draco moved nearer to the witch. "I regret that I wasn't completely sober," he replied. "I can't help but feel that I sort of forced something on you, something you didn't want."

They were close enough now to touch. Hermione rested her hand on his shoulder. "I was a pretty willing participant," she assured him. "Have you been drinking today?"

Draco nodded, wincing as she pulled her hand away and took a step back. "After you left," he told her.

"Because you wanted to forget me again," she finished for him. The pained look in her brown eyes told him to lie, told him to tell her that morning's drink had nothing to do with her. But his brain refused to lie to her. "Thanks for stopping by. Sorry you missed dinner."

Draco sunk down on the sofa as he watched Hermione go back to her room. He didn't know how long he sat there, not until he was no longer in the dark by himself. The light turned on to reveal Adrian Pucey standing at the front door.

"What are you doing here?" Adrian asked, confused to see his old classmate sitting on his couch in the dark.

"I was invited," Draco said through clenched teeth.

"Right, and dinner was over three hours ago," the other man replied. Draco's expression hardened, leading Adrian to wonder if the blonde was preparing to hex him. "Want a drink?" he asked, hoping to deflect Malfoy's sour mood.

He should have said no, but Draco found himself nodding his head. His eyes followed Adrian out of the room, lingered near the archway, and alighted when Pucey returned with a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses. Draco watched with anticipation as Adrian poured an inch of liquid into each glass before handing him one.

"Cheers," Adrian toasted, taking a small sip. Draco downed his in one gulp. "Easy there, mate," he laughed.

"Just refill it," Draco muttered, holding out his glass.

Adrian complied and watched as Draco chugged his second glass. "You have a thing for her," he observed. The blonde sneered, denying the accusation. "Why would you be sitting in the dark in someone else's house if you didn't like her?"

"Because it's better than sitting in the dark in my own house," he mumbled. Draco stared down into his empty glass wondering when his life had taken this turn. As hard as he tried, he couldn't seem to remember the last time he'd been sober for longer than a few hours. Each morning greeted him with a hangover. Each night he curled up with a bottle of booze. Something needed to change, but he had no idea how to go about making it happen.

Adrian nodded knowingly. "Well, this is a pretty good place to crash, if you want it," he offered. "Homecooked meals, we always have clean towels, Hermione doesn't seem as inclined to maim you anymore. What more could you ask for?"

What more indeed, Draco thought. The small flat was warmer than any room in Malfoy Manor, and much less haunting. He'd slept better in the last two nights, just being near people, than he had in months, possibly years.

"I'll stay the night," Draco agreed. "But you're telling Granger."


	7. Chapter 7

Am I the only one who detests a busy Monday? As if it wasn't bad enough that I dribbled Nutella on my scarf. Such a waste of the greatest food ever. I'll have to make myself feel better with ice cream for dinner. It's one of the few perks I've found to being a grown up.

* * *

Chapter 7  
It was the middle of the night, but Hermione couldn't seem to stay asleep any longer. Her mouth was dry, her mind was racing, and her left leg kept twitching. With a groan, she pushed herself out of bed. Slipping her robe on over her pajamas, she quietly padded down the hall to the kitchen. A glass of water was all she needed, she hoped.

From the kitchen, she could see the lights still on in the living room. "Stupid boys," she mumbled to herself. "Never can manage to shut off a light. Or close a door. Or knock on a closed door." The glass of water almost slipped at of her hand at the sight that greeted her. Draco Malfoy was asleep on her couch. His shirt and shoes had both been cast to the side of the coffee table.

Hermione shook him awake, wanting answers that couldn't wait until morning. His eyes blinked open and he stared blearily up at her. "Granger?" he asked.

"Yeah, why are you still here?" she inquired, nudging his right shoe with the tip of her toe. "I thought you left."

Draco pulled himself into a seated position and invited her to sit beside him. Instead, she shook her head and continued to stand over him. "Could I have a sip?" he asked, noticing the glass in her hand.

"It's not vodka, you know," she warned him, extending the glass to him. "Or gin, vermouth, or any other clear colored liquor."

He took a hearty sip and sighed. "Yeah, Granger, I know. I've had water before. Plus, you're not the kind of person to imbibe at three in the morning." Conceding his point, she sat down and took back her water glass. "Adrian let me stay," he finally told her, fiddling with the edge of the blanket draped over his lap. The room was cold and Draco took it upon himself to cover Hermione, as well.

"Thanks," she whispered sincerely. "I couldn't sleep."

His fingers started braiding the tassels along the edge of the crocheted blanket. "I was having a hard time of it, too," he confided. Hermione reached over and shook out the fringe he had plaited before taking one restless hand in her own to calm him. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"For braiding my blanket?" she asked dumbfoundedly.

Laughing, he shook his head. "For what I said to you earlier. There's just...you just...I sometimes don't know how to handle things properly. I called and you came right away, and I'm not used to people caring about me or wanting to help me out of the goodness of their hearts. And maybe I'm reading more into this than I should be, but it scares me a bit to think that you would be that person who cares about me."

"It shouldn't scare you that I care," Hermione murmured. "But I guess I can understand where you're coming from."

Draco nodded his appreciation, letting silence fall over them. Pulling her legs up to her side on the cushions, Hermione leaned against Draco and sighed. Before it could spill, Draco pulled the glass out of her hand and set it on the coffee table.

"Do you ever feel like you could just sleep for days and still not be rested?" she asked, yawning halfway through her question.

Draco nodded. "I've done it, although I think you'd call it more of a bender," he replied, glancing down to gauge her reaction. But her eyes were closed as she snuggled further into his side. He draped his arm around her shoulders and slouched down, propping his feet on the coffee table. Together, they fell asleep on the living room couch.

There was a terrible pain in his neck when Draco awoke the next morning. His arm was still around Hermione and her hair tickled his cheek as she stirred.

"Hmm, morning," she murmured, smiling up at him. Hermione sat up and stretched her arms up over her head to get the kinks out of her back. "Despite the awkward position, I slept really well."

"Yeah, me too," Draco replied, setting his feet on the floor. "Think your roommates are up yet?"

Hermione looked around, noticing that the sun had only just risen. "Too early for them to be up," she told him. Pushing the blanket completely onto his lap, she stood up and left the living room. Draco remained on the couch, unsure whether to follow her. The living room was probably his safest bet.

Draco was having a hard time sorting Hermione out. She always seemed disappointed with him; never mad, just hurt that he would spend his days with a bottle. But then, he'd spent the last three nights with her by his side. And she cared about him, despite his vices. The real question he couldn't find the answer to was why she cared. It seemed even she didn't know.

Hermione wandered down the hall to Adrian's bedroom in a bit of a daze. Without bothering to knock, she entered his dark room and sat on the side of his bed, softly shaking him awake.

"Five more minutes," Adrian grumbled, rolling onto his side so his back was to her.

Hermione climbed onto the bed and kneeled over him. "Wake up, love," she murmured in his ear, smiling as she kissed his cheek. With his eyes still closed, Adrian wrapped his arms around her torso and tackled her to the bed.

"Excellent wake up call, darling," he purred, kissing the side of her mouth. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Try as she might, Adrian was too heavy to move off of her, so she remained pinned underneath him. "Malfoy slept here again last night," she stated, one eyebrow rising as a sign that she wanted an explanation.

Adrian crawled off of her, propping himself up on his elbow as he lay beside her. "I meant to tell you last night, but you were already asleep," he replied, averting his gaze from the brunette next to him. The pile of dirty clothes near the foot of his bed seemed to capture his interest.

"It's fine," she said after some time.

"So, is Malfoy still in the living room or did he wander into your bed again?" Adrian inquired. "I swear, I'm still amazed you didn't hex him into next year for that little stunt."

Hermione climbed out of Adrian's bed. "It didn't seem prudent," she mumbled, feeling her face grow warm. He followed her as she left his room, making her way to the kitchen. The usual smells of breakfast cooking on the stove were absent, as was Neville. She turned to Adrian with a questioning look on her face.

"He snuck out last night," Adrian filled her in. "I think he's seeing someone."

"Who?" Hermione asked, fascinated by the latest development in her roommate's life. "And why didn't he tell me?"

Adrian laughed at the pout that formed on Hermione's lips. "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me."

Their conversation halted when they heard the sound of the floo activate. Hermione's eyes widened with anticipation that it was Neville returning from his tryst with his mystery girl. She left the kitchen and hurried to greet her friend. But the living room was empty. The shirt and shoes that Draco had discarded the night before were gone as well. Deciding that she wouldn't allow Draco to effect her mood, she went back to Adrian. "It wasn't him," she mumbled, pulling down a box of cereal and two bowls. They ate breakfast in silence as they awaited Neville's return.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
The week went by without a word from Draco. By the third day, Hermione began to worry. The connection between their floo networks had been cut off, rendering him incommunicado to her. She tried sending letters, but he never replied.

It wasn't until the weekend came around that she saw him again. It was on a routine trip to Diagon Alley to visit Flourish and Blott's bookstore. Hermione was just about to walk into the shop when she heard someone call out to her. Turning around, she spotted Draco walking toward her.

"Well, you don't look happy to see me," he drawled when he was only a few feet away.

"That's because I'm not," she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why do you seem mad at me?" he asked, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Hermione let her arms drop to her sides. "No reason," she muttered. Turning away from him, she entered the bookshop with Malfoy on her heels. He followed silently behind her until they reached the section on Ancient Runes. She whirled around and shot him a scathing look. "Stop following me."

Draco reached for her hand, but she yanked it back as soon as she felt his skin. "I'm sorry I didn't write back," he murmured, stepping closer to her.

Hermione shook her head. "Have you ever heard the fable about the boy who cried wolf?" she asked, taking a minute step backwards. Draco shook his head. She explained the tale about a boy who cried wolf so often that when there was a real wolf, no one believed him. "You're apologies are quite akin to that fable. You do it so often that I just don't believe them anymore." Her voice was soft and sad as she spoke to him.

"I don't know what else to say," he murmured. "I guess I'll just leave you alone."

Hermione watched as he left the store and turned right. In the direction of the Leaky Cauldron, she realized. Questions ran rapid fire through her mind as she watched him disappear. Was he drinking to forget her again? Should she stop him?

She decided to follow him as he entered the pub. He took a seat at the bar and gestured for Tom, the barkeep, to bring him a firewhiskey. When the glass was placed in front of him, Hermione sidled up and took the stool next to him.

"Please don't drink that," she said. Realizing for the first time that she had followed him, he glanced at her in surprise. The glass was poised halfway to his lips, and remained there as she continued talking. "You only seem to like me when you've been drinking, and I only seem to like you when you're sober. We're kind of at a crossroads here."

He set his glass back on the bar. "So, either you need to drink too, or I need to stop," he reasoned, sliding his firewhiskey to her as he ordered another.

Hermione snorted, staring at the drink before her. "That's really awful logic," she replied.

Draco shrugged. "Either you drink it or I drink both."

To Hermione's ears, his words sounded like a threat. She considered the drink, wondering if, by drinking it, he would stop. She shook her head; that sounded even more illogical.

"I'm not going to help you get drunk, Malfoy," she declared, pushing the glass away. Shrugging again, he reached across her and took the glass. He downed the first firewhiskey in one gulp before setting his sights on the second one. As he raised the glass to his lips, Hermione put her hand on his arm. "Please don't," she said again.

Draco looked down at her hand, keeping his eyes trained there. "Either you drink it or I drink it. One way or another it's getting drunk," he replied, not caring that she seemed as upset as she was.

"Fine," she muttered, taking the glass from his hand. She took a delicate sip and coughed as it burned its way down her throat. Setting the glass down she glared at him. "Happy now?"

Draco shook his head and smiled at her. "No, not until it's gone," he replied. He watched as she finished the firewhiskey, noticing the way her cheeks reddened with each sip. "Now I'm happy."

"Good, then let's go," she said, taking his hand. She hopped off of the bar stool, unsteady on her feet. It was never a good idea that she drank on an empty stomach, and firewhiskey was a powerful liquor. Draco steadied her, but remained seated.

"I'm not ready to go yet," he decided, not taking his hands off of her waist. She was close enough that he could smell her - lavender and vanilla, he recognized, with just a hint of booze now. The lips he longed to taste again were so close now. He pulled her closer and pressed their lips together. He could taste the alcohol on her lips and her tongue as he deepened the kiss. It was a pleasant surprise to him when she cupped his face in her hands as they stayed connected. It wasn't until Tom banged on the counter in front of them, startling them, that they parted.

Draco pulled back and laughed. "I guess my logic wasn't so bad then," he remarked as Hermione's hands slid down to his shoulders for balance.

Her mind felt fuzzy, though whether it was from the drink or the kiss, Hermione couldn't be sure. "It's still terrible logic," she spoke carefully, afraid that her words would slur if she went any faster. "I don't like you when you're drunk."

Draco pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "I'm not drunk, you are," he pointed out.

"Fine, then, I don't like you when I'm drunk," she amended with a huff.

Draco sighed and stood up, though there was little room between the stool and Hermione. "I guess we are at a crossroads then," he said. His hands slid off of her waist and he reached into his pocket for a few galleons to cover their drinks. With an arm around her shoulders, he guided her outside and let her go. They were close to the Apparition point when he stopped walking. "I'm a big boy, Granger. I'm not looking for someone to take care of me," he told her.

"I didn't know that caring about you was such an inconvenience to you," she replied softly, chewing on her bottom lip. From that point forward, she vowed not to show concern for her former classmate. They were far from the enemies they had been during their school days, and Hermione relished the idea that Draco Malfoy had changed enough to consider her a friend. But she was wrong, and now she knew that.

She decided it was time to walk away from him, even if it meant forever. But he called her back. "It's not...inconvenient," he told her. When he said nothing else, she continued to the Apparition point and left.


	9. Chapter 9

Is anyone else completely boggled by the time change? It was really dark when I woke up this morning, and even at just a bit past 3:00, I'm still not awake. My coworker dragged me to Dunkin Donuts almost first thing this morning too. It's just a cruel, cruel place to drag the gluten-free girl. I will just have to recover with some ice cream and shoe shopping!

* * *

Chapter 9  
Hermione had pushed all thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her mind, immersing herself in her work and friends. Neville had announced that he would be inviting Harry and Ron, as well as their significant others, over for dinner. He had news that he wanted to tell them all. Hermione and Adrian whispered conspiratorially that it had something to do with the girl they hadn't yet met.

"You don't think he'd propose, do you?" Hermione asked as she peeled potatoes for dinner.

Adrian shook his head. "They've been seeing each other for what, a month if that. He's not proposing."

She breathed a sigh of relief. As much as she wanted Neville to be happy, rushing into marriage with someone he'd only just begun dating spelled disaster. She peeled her last potato and dropped it into the pot of water. "Yeah, it can't be that," she agreed.

An hour later, their dinner guests began to arrive. Hermione had just finished dressing when Harry and Ginny announced themselves.

"Oh my goodness, you're pregnant," Hermione squealed upon spotting Ginny for the first time in months. The fiery redhead smiled proudly as she pulled Hermione into a hug.

"About five months along now," Ginny told her, running her hand over the small bump. Hermione moved over to Harry and hugged him.

"Oh, you must be so excited," Hermione gushed, giving Ginny a once over.

Ginny rolled her eyes and sat down. "Yep, swollen ankles, midnight food cravings, and back pain are swell!" she replied with facetious enthusiasm.

Hermione spent the next half hour catching up with the Potters until Ron arrived with Lavender Brown on his arm. Her mouth set into a tight, thin line as memories of her sixth year at Hogwarts came flooding back. Ron and Hermione had dated for two years following the war, but all they did was fight. Their tempers always seemed to reach new peaks with each argument. Neither one ever got hurt, but Hermione didn't want to be in such a volatile relationship. They hadn't spoken often, having last seen one another at Harry and Ginny's wedding the year before.

"Hey Mione," he greeted her, awkwardly stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Hi Ron," Hermione replied. "So, um, dinner should be ready soon. We're just waiting on Neville. He said there was something he needed to pick up."

Ron nodded and took a seat next to Harry with Lavender perched on his lap. The front door opened and Neville entered with someone behind him. Hermione recognized the girl instantly as Hannah Abbott. The former Hufflepuff smiled shyly at the group assembled as Neville reintroduced her.

"So, let's eat," Neville declared, leading Hannah by the hand to the kitchen. The table was enlarged to allow eight people to fit. The food that Neville and Hermione had spent the day working on appeared on the table - mashed potatoes, lemon marinated asparagus, and beef tenderloin. Adrian poured wine for everyone but Ginny before taking his seat beside Hermione.

"So, are you two dating again?" Lavender inquired, waving her fork from Hermione to Adrian.

Hermione's nose wrinkled as the other woman talked with her mouth full. It disgusted her to see the masticated beef rolling around on her tongue as she spoke.

"No," Hermione replied pointedly, pushing the food around on her plate.

"Oh," Lavender said, sounding disappointed. "You two look so adorable together. Imagine how beautiful your kids would be." She propped her left elbow up on the table and sighed. The tiniest of smiles graced her lips as she flashed her engagement ring at Hermione.

Hermione scowled at Ron's fiancee, and turned her attention to Neville who grinned wildly as he spoke to Hannah. A blush filled the blonde girl's cheeks as Neville nodded excitedly and stood up.

"So, I'm sure you're all wondering why I assembled you here tonight," he said, tripping over his words as he spoke quickly. "I'm just going to tell you. Hannah has agreed to marry me. And we don't want to wait too long. We're planning a very small wedding for the end of the month."

A round of congratulations went up, but Hermione sat in her chair numb from what she had just heard.

"You okay?" Adrian asked her, concern showing itself in his blue eyes.

In response, she nodded. "I'm fine. Is it warm in here? It must be the wine. I'm just going to step outside." On her way out of the kitchen, she kissed Neville's cheek and whispered her congratulations to the happy couple. Reaching the living room, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. Impulsively, she grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the hearth. "Malfoy Manor," she called before being engulfed in the green flames.

Draco looked up from his book curiously as Hermione stepped out of his fireplace. "What are you doing here?" he asked icily.

"I need a drink," she told him. A smirk played at the corners of his lips. "And don't look at me like that. I've hit you before and I'll do it again."

He obliged her wish and handed her a tumbler of firewhiskey. She didn't seem to care that it had had adverse effects on her in the past. Tonight she wanted to forget. It wasn't until she finished her second glass that she spoke to him.

"Ginny's pregnant, Ron's engaged, and Neville's getting married at the end of this month," she summed up. "And I'm alone."

"What about Pucey?" Draco asked, filling a glass for himself.

She shook her head, feeling her hair fall loose from the bun she'd crafted hours earlier. "Adrian had...many blondes when we dated."

Draco nodded knowingly; Adrian Pucey had never been one for monogamy. "So, why did you come here?" he asked, watching as she downed her third glass of firewhiskey.

She looked up at him and sniffled. "Because I didn't want to be alone," she replied softly.

Hermione set her empty glass down on the end table beside her chair and rose up on shaky legs. When she reached him, she climbed onto his lap and straddled his legs. Before Draco's mind could register what was happening, her lips descended upon his in a hungry kiss. His hands rested on the bunched up material of her skirt as it rode up her thighs while her fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt.

"Hermione, wait," Draco breathed, turning his head away.

Gripping the back of the couch for support, she pulled back and shot him a questioning look. "But the last time, we..."

"Is this the only reason you came over?" he asked.

A devious smile crossed her face. "Which answer gets me what I want?" she inquired, leaning in to kiss his neck.

Again he pulled away. "The honest one," he replied.

Hermione sighed and looked down at their laps. "I just wanted to feel...something again," she explained. "And I don't understand how or why, but you always make me feel something. Even if that something is blind hatred."

In lieu of a wordy response, Draco kissed her with all the passion he could muster. As their lips stayed locked, their tongues a battle for dominance, Draco swept her. Without breaking their kiss, he carried her to his room.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for my very long absence. I've tried a little over a week to post this chapter, but had been getting an Error message each time. Anyone else have that problem?

* * *

Chapter 10  
Hermione awoke in an empty bed with a splitting headache. And she was completely alone. Through bleary, hungover eyes, she surveyed the semi dark room for any sign of Malfoy. Groaning, she pulled herself up into a slouched position against the headboard.

The bedroom door opened, letting in just the smallest amount of light from the hallway. Draco moved over to the bed with a small vial and a mug in his hands.

"How do you feel?" he asked, sitting beside her. Hermione groaned in response. Laughing, he handed her the vial. "It's for the hangover. Give it a few minutes to work." She swallowed it quickly, grimacing at the sour taste, before he handed her a mug of coffee.

Taking a hearty sip, Hermione sighed contently and thanked him. "I'm never drinking again," she vowed. "How do you do this every day?"

"I haven't actually gotten drunk from three glasses in a while. It takes some practice," he told her.

"Super," she grumbled, finishing off her coffee. He took the mug from her and set it down on the nightstand as she slumped down further into the soft bed. "I never do this," she told him.

"What? Drink? Shag?" he inquired.

She shook her head, fixing him with a withering look. "I don't just...do this, jump into bed with someone I'm not in a relationship with," she explained.

Draco considered this. The Hermione Granger he had grown up with had never been impulsive, had never done anything on whim. That girl had been the type to research her plans thoroughly before making a commitment. He wondered if this was her way of saying she want him to make a commitment to her now.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by her tinkling laughter. "Sorry, you have 'freak out' face on," she murmured, taking his hand. "I'm not looking for you to put a ring on my finger because we had sex. I don't want a relationship with anyone, least of all with you."

"Wow, thanks," he muttered, pulling back his hand. "I give you, at least, one of the five best nights of your life, and this is how you show your gratitude."

Hermione sat up and leaned in closely to him. "I'm sorry. That didn't come out right," she replied, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. He turned his head to meet her lips. "When I leave, are you going to start drinking?" she asked.

Draco caressed her cheek with the palm of his hand. "I wish you would stop asking me that. It just always makes you mad at me. I don't want to get stuck in that cycle of you asking and getting mad, and then we don't speak for weeks. Let's just avoid it all by you not asking and me not answering."

Begrudgingly, she obliged. "You know I worry about you," she told him.

Her comment was met with a smile. "Yeah, I know. You wouldn't be you if you didn't," he replied. "Take a shower. I'll make breakfast before you go home."

An hour later, Hermione returned to her flat and two very worried flatmates. Angry was not a strong emotion to convey how Neville and Adrian felt at the moment. Hermione had barely stepped out of the floo when they began yelling at her.

"Where the hell have you been?" Adrian demanded.

"You could have been hurt," Neville exclaimed as he hugged her protectively.

"You said you were going to get some air, and then you disappeared. We thought you'd been kidnapped or something," Adrian yelled, narrowing his eyes on the witch. "We want an explanation. You owe us one. We were up half the night worrying about you. Do you know how hard it was to convince Potter to leave?"

Hermione pulled out of Neville's grasp. "Look, I appreciate your concern, and I know you were worried. But I'm a big girl who can take care of herself," Hermione lectured, hands on her hips. "As you can see I'm fine. So just let it go."

She brushed past the two of them, but Adrian took hold of her arm. "Were you with him last night?" he asked, a jealous bite in his voice.

"That's none of your business," she informed him, leveling him with her glare. He let go of her arm instantly and allowed her to walk away.

Neville sighed and sat down. "Who is it you think she was with?" he asked, staring up at a still seething Adrian. The older man ran a hand through his light brown hair and shared his thoughts. Neville nodded in agreement. "She's always seemed drawn to him," Neville mused, garnering a scathing look from Adrian.

"He's not good enough for her. He drinks all the time. He used to tease her and call her names," Adrian said, listing off all of Malfoy's worst qualities.

"The teasing has stopped," Neville pointed out. "I don't think he's hexed her since fourth year, and that was an accident. I don't know much about the drinking, but if Hermione thought-"

"That's exactly it, though. She's not thinking," Adrian interjected. "I get that I wasn't the best boyfriend to her, but Malfoy's not the answer either."  
"Maybe not to you," Neville replied, shaking his head. "But he could be to Hermione."

But Adrian refused to believe him. And he would make Hermione see his point of view as well.

Draco moved to the kitchen with the dirty breakfast dishes. His conversation with Hermione earlier that morning rang clearly in his mind. Was it possible that the prim and proper Gryffindor Princess wanted him for nothing but sex? Could he really be so lucky? She had stressed how little desire she had for a relationship, but even she couldn't deny the magnetism that always seemed to pull them together.

With the dishes washed, dried, and put away, Draco lingered in the kitchen. His sights set on a bottle of vodka he had left out the day before. "No," he told himself as he exited the kitchen. The drinking needed to end if he never wanted to see the hurt look in Hermione's brown eyes again. He knew she had been hurt by men in the past, and he wouldn't be a source of her pain any longer.

He moved to the living room to straighten up. The liquor cart in the corner called out to him, but he did all he could to ignore it. He would quit for Hermione, or get as close as he could to quitting. There would be no more midday drinks to forget the tempting witch. It was a small step, he told himself, but it was a small step in the right direction.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
"Why am I doing this?" Draco muttered to himself as he reattempted to tie his bow tie for the fourth time.

"Because you want to see what color knickers I'm wearing tonight," Hermione quipped. She lay across his bed in nothing but a towel, silently laughing with each frustrating attempt Draco made.

With a groan he threw the tie down and climbed onto the bed. His body covered hers before his lips devoured her mouth. His hand slipped into the towel, touching the softness of her abdomen. "Let's stay here tonight," he suggested, moving his lips to her neck.

Hermione moaned, closing her eyes as his hand moved up to her breast. "Can't," she murmured breathily. "I'm the maid of honor. I have to be there."

The movement of his hand ceased and his head rested against her shoulder. "And why do I have to go?" he asked for the tenth time that day. Hermione laughed at the whine in his voice. "I'm not even friends with Longbottom."

Pushing his lithe frame off of herself, Hermione giggled and pressed a kiss to his lips as she sat up. "I already told you why," she replied, pulling the towel around herself more tightly. "Now, I'm going to get dressed. You finish with that tie. And then we're leaving," she instructed, making her way to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, Hermione was ready. Draco, however, was not.

"I'm not wearing it," he said defiantly as she scowled at him. She didn't scare him, Draco told himself, until he was staring at the tip of her wand. In a mere three flicks of the wand, the bow tie was safely secured around his neck. Smiling satisfactorily, Hermione took him by the arm and led them to the foyer. All the while, Draco pulled at the tie that was too tight.

Leave it alone," she admonished, searching through her clutch for the invitation. It would act as a portkey, set to go off in under a minute. When it was in her hand, Draco grabbed a corner and they were soon spinning through a whirl of space. They landed with ease in front of a large, white tent.

Draco let go of the envelope once his feet were firmly on the ground. Beside him, Hermione held onto his arm for support while her eyes were closed. She breathed deeply as if she were going to be sick. "You're looking a bit green, Granger," he joked. "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded but said nothing else. Seconds later, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I'll see you after the ceremony," she said, kissing his cheek before turning away from him. He entered the tent. There were only a few rows of chairs set up for the guests, and in the front row sat Harry and Ginny Potter. Draco groaned at the sight of The Boy Who Lived and his very pregnant wife. He took a seat in the last row, as far from the couple as possible.

The ceremony began fifteen minutes later. Neville stood at the altar, shaking nervously despite the growing smile on his face. Hermione was the first one down the aisle, dressed in a knee-length, strapless, lilac dress. Hannah was next in flowing white robes. The smile plastered on her face as she approached her husband-to-be erased any doubts that this union was a bad idea.

The ceremony began and ended quickly. The vows, written by the couple, were shared and rings were exchanged before the minister declared them "Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom." The small orchestra played a joyous melody as Neville and Hannah walked up the aisle and out of the wedding tent. Hermione and Adrian followed behind, their arms linked. There was something about the sight of the former couple together that stirred something inside of Draco Malfoy.

Jealousy.

He shook his head as he exited the tent. There was no reason to be jealous of Pucey, he decided. Hermione had made it clear that his philandering ways had led to their break up, and she had no desire to revisit that part of her past. They were friends, much like she and Longbottom. But the romantic history, albeit brief, still weighed heavily on Draco's mind.

"You're still tugging at it," Hermione chided, interrupting his thoughts. He hadn't even realized his hand had been playing with his bow tie. Immediately, he let his arm fall to his side and smiled stiffly at her. Her brow furrowed as she looped her arm through his and led him to the reception. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing," Draco mumbled. Once they were inside the reception tent, he let go of her and made his way to the bar. The scowl he wore deepened when he spotted Pucey ordering two drinks. Draco slapped two sickles down on the bar and ordered a firewhiskey.

Adrian turned and shot him a smile. "Oh, hey, Malfoy. Wasn't expecting to see you here," he said.

"Hermione dragged me along as her date," he muttered, grabbing his drink. "Who's that for?" he asked, pointing to the flute of champagne in Adrian's left hand.

"Hermione," Adrian replied simply.

Draco seethed as Adrian walked away from the bar. The glass in his hand was empty, and Draco was desperately in need of a refill. After ordering his second drink, he turned to watch Hermione. Adrian handed her the glass of champagne, but she didn't drink it. She smiled gratefully and set it down on the nearest table when Adrian walked away.

Hermione stood beside Ginny, a worried look marring her soft features. "He's drinking again," she confided in her friend.

"Hasn't he been doing this for awhile?" Ginny asked, resting her hand behind her back for support.

Hermione shook her head. She had noticed that in the month that they had been together, Draco's drinking had seemed to lessen. He would have a glass of wine with dinner and then a nightcap before bed, but the days of spending his afternoons drunk had disappeared. As Hermione watched Draco down his third drink, she told Ginny all of this. "What I don't understand is why start up again now?" Hermione wondered.

Ginny shook her head and laughed. "For someone as smart as you are, you're really dim sometimes, Hermione," she commented. The confused expression on Hermione's face forced Ginny to expound. "He loves you, but you won't commit."

Hermione scoffed. "He doesn't love me," she countered. "He loves shagging me, sure, but he doesn't love me. If you asked me, the only thing Draco Malfoy loves is a bottle of Ogden's Finest."

Ginny shook her head. Hermione was smart but stubborn. Until she wanted to see it, there was no way Ginny could convince her of Draco's feelings. The redhead noticed as Hermione's eyes settled on Draco, a look of longing flashing momentarily through her brown orbs, before she turned back.

"Gin, there's something I need your help with," Hermione whispered.


	12. Chapter 12

After this, there are only 4 chapters left :( I've already begun working on something new. Today I'll probably start writing chapter 7 of that. It's either that or spot check four large boxes of books here at work. I haven't started either yet. Maybe after lunch.

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Chapter 12  
"You think you're what?" Ginny shrieked once they were in the privacy of the single person lavatory.

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. "Pregnant, Ginny," she repeated for the third time. "Please stop making me say it."

"And you came to this conclusion how?" Ginny wondered. Hermione explained her symptoms - nausea, heightened sense of smell, cravings she couldn't explain. The redhead pulled out her wand. "Have you told Draco?" she asked, casting an incantation in the direction of Hermione's abdomen. Hermione merely shook her head before looking down at her stomach, waiting for something to happen. "It'll take a few seconds before you know," Ginny informed her. Half a minute later, a blue aura began to glow around Hermione.

"What does that mean?" Hermione asked fearfully.

Ginny was unsure as to which facial expression she should wear as she replied, "It means you're pregnant."

Hermione seemed faint as she leaned against the nearest wall for support. Her vision began to blur, though whether from tears she refused to cry or the news she'd just received she wasn't sure. They'd been safe every time, she assured herself.

Not every time though.

Bits and pieces of a drunken night together a month before came back to her. She had had too much firewhiskey and forgot to cast a contraceptive charm. One stupid night and now she was pregnant with Draco Malfoy's child.

"I can't tell him," she murmured, looking at Ginny with wide, glistening eyes.

Ginny furrowed her brow and crossed her arms, letting them settle just atop her rounded stomach. "And why can't you tell him?" she inquired, frowning at her friend.

Pushing away from the wall, Hermione paced around the small bathroom. The older witch scoffed twice as she made a list of the reasons Draco couldn't know. He drank too much, they fought too often. They weren't even in a relationship and had no plans to commit to one another. It wasn't until Ginny asked what she planned to do now that Hermione ceased her pacing.

"It's my baby. I'm keeping it," Hermione decided.

Back in the reception tent, Draco wandered around looking for his date. Paying little attention to those around him, he bumped into Harry Potter, sloshing firewhiskey on both of them.

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy," Harry said angrily as he used his hands to clean off his robes.

"Where is she?" Draco asked, not caring at all that the wizard in front of him looked ready to hex him into next year. "I saw her go off somewhere with your wife. Where is she?"

Harry shrugged as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He noticed the way Draco's gray eyes glassed over and his steps were unsteady. An hour into the reception and his former Slytherin enemy was drunk. Neville had alluded to Draco having a drinking problem, but he had thought that Hermione had him on the mend.

"Potter, please," Draco murmured, holding onto Harry's arm for support. His eyes were pleading, urging Harry to take him to Hermione.

It was against Harry's better judgment, but he told Draco what he knew. "They went to the ladies' room about fifteen minutes ago," Harry told him.

He let go of Harry and ran on shaking legs out of the reception tent. The lavatories had been set up just twenty feet from the reception. The doors were clearly marked and Draco burst into the ladies' room.

Two heads snapped towards the door and drunk man standing in the archway. "What are you doing, Malfoy?" Hermione demanded, hastily wiping at her eyes so he wouldn't see the evidence that she was upset.

"Oh, so I'm Malfoy again?" he asked, ignoring her question. His cheeks filled with a deep crimson color as his alcohol-induced anger rose.

Hermione shook her head and stepped around Ginny to be closer to him. "You're drunk again," she observed.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor," he replied facetiously, his words slurring as he spoke.

"Go home, Draco. Have some coffee," Hermione instructed, not ready to deal with him in such an incapacitated state. "You're drunk, and I'm in no mood for it tonight." And try as she might, using all of her force to push him away, she couldn't get him to budge from the doorway.

"You are my date," he bit out. "You're the reason I'm even at this stupid wedding. If I leave, you're coming with me."

Draco had a loose grip on Hermione's arm that she quickly shrugged off. "Go home, Draco," she murmured softly. "I'll meet you there a bit later."

Draco seemed to accept this compromise because he kissed her cheek and left her and Ginny alone.

The two women stood in silence as Hermione watched Draco's retreating form. "What are you going to do now?" Ginny asked quietly.

Hermione turned around to face her friend. "I'm going to tell him it's over between us," she replied sadly. Hermione exited the ladies' room and made her way to the Apparition point, but not before Ginny stopped her from leaving.

"Hermione, he has to know," Ginny told her. "He has the right to know he's going to be a father. I don't think much of him, but it doesn't mean I'm siding with you on this."

"This is my decision, Gin," Hermione replied, standing her ground. "I have to do what's right for this baby and myself. I can't have an incessantly drunk Draco Malfoy handling my child."

Ginny sighed; she hated it when Hermione made a valid point. "I see your point," she conceded. But before she let the distraught brunette leave, she made her an offer she hoped Hermione would not refuse. "Listen, I'm pretty sure Adrian isn't much of a kids guy. If you need to, I want you to come live with Harry and me. James or Lily will be here in a few months, which will give you a bit of practice with your little one. Just think about it, Mione."

With tears in her eyes, Hermione pulled Ginny into a hug. "Thank you," she whispered before pulling away and Apparating to Malfoy Manor.


	13. Chapter 13

So, I'm wondering what the best time of the day is to post chapters. Let me know your thoughts.

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Chapter 13  
The Manor was dark when Hermione reached the foyer. The light from her wand guided her through the now eerily lit halls. A chill ran down her spine as she passed the main sitting room, the site of her torture at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange when she was only eighteen. It seemed like a lifetime ago now as she navigated the first floor to the stairs that would take her to the second and Draco's bedroom.

The door was slightly ajar when Hermione reached it, and the faint sounds of snoring could be heard as she entered. Draco lay fully dressed on top of the blankets, his shoes kicked off by the side of the bed. He looked peaceful as he slept. His soft blonde locks were mussed and his clothes were wrinkled, but his face held no sign of distress.

As quietly as she could, Hermione removed her heels and set them down beside his shoes. She unzipped her dress and changed into one of Draco's pajama tops before slipping into bed beside him. If she were to leave him, this was how she wanted to remember him. A silent tear slid down her cheek as she stroked the side of his face.

An arm snaked around her waist, and using her as an anchor, Draco pulled himself closer. Slowly, his eyes blinked open and adjusted to the darkness enveloping them.

"I didn't think you'd come," he whispered huskily. His lips found her moist cheek and he pulled away. "Why are you crying?"

Ginny's words played over and over in her mind - he has to know, he has to know. Hermione took a deep breath to steel herself for what she was about to tell him. The words "I'm pregnant" slipped past her lips so softly, she was sure Draco hadn't heard them.

"Please tell me I'm still drunk and I heard that wrong," he replied, pulling away from her. A small sob escaped her as he sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't want anything from you, Draco," she assured him, sitting up now as well. "I wasn't even going to tell you, but I thought you should know."

"Wait, you weren't going to tell me?" he asked, feeling more hurt than angry by her admission. "It's mine though. Right?"

Hermione merely nodded as she sniffled back another sob. She looked down at her lap, feeling too guilty to look him in the eye as he started speaking again.

"You're right about one thing, Granger, I did deserve to know that you're carrying my child. I also deserve to know this child when he or she is born. What I don't understand is why you would want to keep this from me. I can help, you know I can."

Hermione's head snapped up, and she noticed for the first time the hard look in his steely gray eyes. "I didn't tell you because I wanted your money," she replied defensively. "I wasn't going to tell you because I...because I don't want you around."

Draco was taken aback; he hadn't expected to hear such words from the ever noble Hermione Granger. Deep down, he knew her reasoning - he was a drunk, despite his every attempt to quit. He had been in rare form at the wedding, having singlehandedly drunk an entire bottle of firewhiskey before barging into a women's bathroom and accosting her.

"Our history together has been tumultuous, at best. We both know that," he said, picking his words carefully. "But you can't cut me out of your life now. I won't let you keep me from my child."

Hermione climbed out of his bed and began to redress. "Then you know what you have to do," she murmured. With one last longing look she made her way to the door.

Draco was by her side in a flash, closing the door as she pulled it open. "I'll stop. The drinking, the jealousy, the fighting. I'll stop it all," he vowed. His left hand came up to caress her cheek and Hermione leaned into his touch, closing her eyes.

"That sounds really nice," she replied, cautious about believing him. She opened her eyes and stared up into his pleading gray orbs. His hand moved to the back of her neck as he leaned down to kiss her. It was a kiss they both melted into as Draco's tongue fully explored her mouth.

"I hated seeing you with Pucey," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. "I hate when he touches you or looks at you."

"Or breathes the same air as me," Hermione added with a smile. "He's a friend. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Move in with me," he suggested frantically as she began to pull away from him again. "I've got plenty of space here, and we'll have a room for the baby when it comes."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "We can't do any of that," she told him. "Not until you fulfill your promises. Please don't make me regret any of this."

Draco gave her a sad smile. "Have you regretted any of this?" he wondered, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Hermione leaned against the still closed door and sighed. "The way I see it is this - everything happens for a reason. That first night that Adrian brought you home drunk and bleeding was like a sign. Maybe we were supposed to help you. I sort of...I kind of hoped that had been the case. You'd been doing so well up until tonight, and I want to believe this was a one time thing. I'm just not so sure."

"You have helped," he told her, his words growing more and more emphatic. "It was just seeing you with Adrian tonight."

"Draco, I can't keep defending my friendship with him," she cried. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she sat down beside him and took his hand. His eyes focused on their joined hands as she told him about Ginny's offer to move in with Harry and her. "I'm going to take her up on it."

Draco nodded, swallowing past the lump that was forming in his throat. "Will you at least stay tonight?" he asked quietly. "You can sneak out in the morning, but tonight I...just need to feel something."

Hermione stood up and led him to his side of the bed. She slid in first and pulled him down with her. As she fell asleep, she wondered if this was the last night they would spend together.


	14. Chapter 14

My first bit of down time today at work, and I'm using it to post another chapter! There's not much left after this chapter, sadly, but you know there are always other works in progress or swimming around in my busy, busy head. As always, I'm grateful for your reviews and to those of you who have made my story one of your favorites!

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Chapter 14  
Draco awoke the next morning to a cold, empty bed. His temples throbbed from his escapades with the bottle the night before. He rolled over, away from Hermione's side of the bed, and spotted a vial on his nightstand. A sad smile touched his lips as he knew Hermione had left the hangover potion for him. In one quick sip, he finished off the potion and put the vial back where he found it.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back on his pillow. The events of the night before replayed in his mind. His - he never knew what to call her - Hermione was pregnant. And while she wanted him to be a part of their baby's life, she wouldn't allow him to until he proved that he could stay sober. He needed help, but had no idea where to start. Anger built up inside of him as he thought of the only person who could help, but wanted nothing more than to push him away.

Pushing himself out of bed, Draco grabbed a quill and parchment, and scribbled off a letter to the only person he could think of who could help him.

"So, tell me again why you're doing this?" Adrian asked. He lazily leaned against her door frame watching as Hermione packed up her belongings.

Folding her last sweater into her trunk, Hermione sighed and closed the latches. "I told you, I just need a little time to myself right now," she muttered, knowing she had used that excuse at least six times already.

"Does this have anything to do with us?" he asked. "I mean, with Neville moving out now, are you worried that something might happen between you and me?"

The thought had honestly never occurred to her. Whatever past relationship she and Adrian had had was now the furthest thing from her mind. Tears blurred her vision as she thought about her current predicament. She would be a single mother while the father of her child spent his nights drunk in a pub somewhere. Shaking her head to clear these thoughts away, she stood up and shrunk her trunk until it was small enough to fit in the pocket of her coat. She hastily wiped away the tears from her eyes and turned to face her roommate.

"This decision has nothing to do with you," she assured him. "Ginny's going to need help with the baby when it comes, and you know Harry's hardly ever home. After Ron and I broke up, I hardly talked to them, but she needs a friend right now and so do I."

Adrian caught her by the shoulders as she tried to push past him. "I thought we were friends," he said softly, letting his hands graze down her arms until he reached her hands.

Hermione glanced down at their hands, and wondered how rude it would be to tell him not to touch her so intimately. "We are," she replied, pulling her hands away. Saying nothing more, she stepped around him and made her way to the living room. With her belongings tucked safely away in the confines of her pocket, Hermione grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the hearth. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place."

Adrian hung back and watched as she disappeared in the green flames. He knew how infrequently Hermione had contact with the Weasley family after her messy split from Ron. She and Ginny hardly communicated, speaking once a month if they found the time. And now she was going to live with her and Harry, and soon their newborn baby. There had to be another reason, one she wasn't sharing with him. And Adrian intended to find out what it was.

"You're here!" Ginny threw herself at Hermione the second she was out of the fireplace. Her arms were wrapped so tightly around the older witch that Hermione was finding it difficult to breathe. "Sorry," Ginny said sheepishly.

"It's fine," Hermione replied, grinning at her friend. At seven months along, Ginny was huge, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she would be just as big in a few months' time. It was a frightening thought, but not nearly as frightening as going it alone when her baby came.

Ginny led her upstairs to the room they had occupied as teenaged members of the Order of the Phoenix. The space was vastly different from Hermione's memory. It was brighter now, not to mention cleaner. The two twin beds had been magicked into a full-sized bed and pushed under the window. The faded wallpaper had been freshened up and the hardwood floor had been refinished.

"It should be big enough that we can move a crib in here when the time comes," Ginny said softly, resting her arm around her friend's shoulders. "That is, if you want to stay that long. You'll always be welcomed here."

Hermione shot her a grateful smile and set about unpacking. The two women remained silent as Ginny studied the careful, methodical way Hermione put away her possessions.

"I didn't tell Harry," Ginny told her, "about why you're here. I just told him that it might be awkward if you and Adrian lived together. He's going to find out eventually though."

"Yeah, I know," Hermione replied resignedly. She closed the bottom drawer of the dresser and closed her trunk. "I'm not quite sure how to broach the subject with him. Nor am I sure how he'll react to Draco's involvement."

"Probably not well," Ginny answered. "So, Malfoy knows, then."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I'm not sure if it'll help him turn things around or just make them worse though," she confided.

Ginny nodded, fearful that it would be the latter. "Hermione, maybe you should go back to him," she suggested, worried about the older witch's reaction. "You said it yourself that he'd gotten better in the past month. Maybe that had something to do with you."

Hermione shook her head. "That's not an option," she murmured, shrinking her trunk down so it would fit beneath the bed.

"But why?" Ginny insisted, getting to her feet.

"Because I said so," Hermione snapped. Blue eyes widened in surprise as Ginny tried to apologize. "No, I'm sorry, Gin. I shouldn't have-"

Ginny held up a hand to silence her. "If anyone understands the hormones, it's me. Don't worry about it," she absolved Hermione who smiled kindly at her generous friend. "Come on, I'm starving."

Hermione allowed the younger witch to pull her from her bedroom to the kitchen. Ginny refused to let her help as she made lunch, claiming she needed to get used to "mother mode." She set down two plates on the table and began to eat.

Hermione picked at the pasta salad on her plate, mulling over her thoughts as she took hesitant bites of her lunch. "Harry has some contacts at St. Mungo's, doesn't he?" she asked softly, twirling the pasta around on her fork.

"Sure," Ginny replied, her mouth full as she spoke. "Sorry, I lived with Ron for too long." She swallowed quickly and looked up at a very worried Hermione. "What kind of contacts are you hoping for?"

Hermione shrugged, trying as hard as she might to look nonchalant. "I just thought if he knew of someone who could help Draco, then..."

"Then you can all be one, big, happy family," Ginny finished for her. The brunette nodded reproachfully as the kitchen door swung open.

Harry greeted each woman with a kiss on the cheek before settling in beside his wife. "So, does anyone want to tell my why I got a letter from Draco Malfoy this morning?" he inquired.


	15. Chapter 15

New chapter before the weekend starts! I would like to plug my new tumblr blog, link to be found on my profile. It's really just some of my more random observations on life told in a humorously entertaining way. Check it out, I dare you.

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Chapter 15  
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was a brightly lit, overly cheerful, and antiseptic smelling place. And Draco hated it. Twice a week for a month, the Malfoy heir attended meetings and shared his feelings to help cure him of his dependency on alcohol. It had been Harry Potter's idea to enter treatment at the magical hospital, and Draco hated him for it. Harry had been told of his situation with Hermione, and had been more than willing to share just how unhappy he was about it.

It was there, a month after their last meeting, that Draco ran into Hermione. "Ginny's gone into labor," she hastily told him when they met by the vending machine. With her tea in hand, she turned to leave.

"Hermione, wait," he stalled her, though he was unsure what to say. Slowly, she turned to face him, waiting patiently for him to speak. "Umm, how are you? How's the..." He gestured towards her stomach.

"Fine," came her succinct reply. "Look, I have to get back. Ginny's asked me to come into the delivery room with her. Thinks I should get to see what'll happen to me in seven months."

Draco closed the distance between them, slipping something out of his pocket as he made his way to her. He pressed the small sheet of parchment into her free hand. "I want you to have that," he murmured before kissing her cheek and leaving.

She watched him walk away, disappear around a corner, before she returned to Ginny's room. The parchment was hidden in her fist as she carefully sipped the hot tea. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she had missed Draco during the month they had spent apart.

"What's that in your hand?" Ginny inquired, smiling serenely at her friend. "It's got your knuckles whiter than snow."

Hermione released the tension in her hand and showed Ginny the parchment. The pregnant witch reached out for it and unfolded the paper. "You haven't looked at this?" Ginny asked, her blue eyes skimming the few lines printed on it. Hermione shook her head and took the note back when Ginny offered it.

"One month sober," Hermione murmured. Her hand shook as she set her tea down on the bedside table. "He's been coming here for treatment. That must have been why he contacted Harry. He's trying."

"Because he loves you," Ginny added.

Hermione shook her head. "He's just confused, that's all," she replied quietly. "I can't say I blame him though. We're intrinsically linked for the rest of our lives now, and all because one time we forgot to be safe. He wants to be a part of the baby's life, and I appreciate that. But it doesn't mean he loves me."

Ginny winced as a contraction hit, breathing deeply as the pain dissipated. "Do you love him? Or think you could?" she asked when it passed.

"I don't know," the older witch murmured. "I worry about him. About the drinking and these jealousy issues he has, specifically when it comes to Adrian. I know he doesn't eat much if he's alone, which is doing him no favors when he hits the bottle. But this," she held up the certificate he had given her, "is proof that he wants to get better."

"Right, to be with you," Ginny interrupted.

Releasing a frustrated groan, Hermione rose from her seat, intent on getting some air. She hadn't been outside longer than five minutes when Harry came to retrieve her. He was exceedingly pale and his green eyes were wild with worry.

"Something's happened to the baby," he said panicked as he dragged her back to the maternity ward. When her water broke, Ginny had been three weeks shy of her due date, but there had been little concern that the baby would be affected by it. But Hermione listened with tears in her eyes as the Mediwitch explained that the baby was no longer getting the oxygen it needed. An emergency procedure would be done to ensure the baby's safety. Harry was ushered into the operating room, leaving Hermione to wait as the Weasleys slowly began to arrive.

Hermione took to wandering the halls in order to occupy her thoughts. The outpatient treatment facility was on the same floor as the maternity ward, and Hermione didn't miss the irony as her feet led her there. Draco was just exiting a meeting room when he bumped into her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing the tears in her eyes. His hands cupped her cheeks gingerly as checked her over. "Is the baby okay?"

She stifled a sob and shook her head. "Ginny's baby though, not ours," she clarified as his thumb brushed away the droplets of moisture on her cheeks. She allowed him pull her to him in a gentle embrace. "I'm really scared, Draco. And not just for them. What if this happens to our baby too?"

"It won't," he stated defiantly, glad when her arms wound around his waist. "And I'll tell you how I know, Hermione. This baby is half Granger, half Malfoy. We're a stubborn lot, you and me. Sometimes it works to our advantage, other times not. Our baby is going to be just fine."

Hermione leaned against him, glad for the support Draco provided. "I hope you're right," she murmured, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt. "Listen, about this." She pulled his certificate from her pocket as she stepped out of his embrace.

Draco stepped back, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm really trying, Hermione," he admitted. "It's been tough, especially without you being around. But I just wanted you to know how things were going."

Nodding, Hermione stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. His hand cupped the back of her head, fingers weaving in her loose curls, as he deepened the kiss.

The tears reformed in her eyes as she pulled away. "Ginny asked me if I could love you," she told him. "And it frightened me because I think I could. Harry told me about your owl, that same morning that I left. I mean, did you...am I crazy to think you did this because of me?"

Draco took her by the hand and led her into an empty room so they would have more privacy. Taking a seat, he ran a hand through his hair and exhaled. "Yes and no," he explained. "You, better than anyone, know what kind of child I was. I had everything I ever wanted growing up - toys, brooms, clothes, the best of everything. But I never had parents. Sure, I had Lucius and Narcissa, who paid so little attention to me. My mother gave in to my every wish just to keep me quiet. My father drank and worshipped at the Dark Lord's feet, and wanted nothing more than for me to be just like him. But I don't want to be him anymore."

"You're not him," she assured him, stroking his cheek.

He shook his head. "But I was," he continued, "and I couldn't control myself. But then you told me that you were pregnant, and I knew that, in order to not be my father, something had to change. I had to change.

"You've been my greatest friend these past couple of months," he said. "I can't remember the last person who said they actually cared about me, but I know you do. And I care so much about you too. Maybe even...I love you."

Hermione stared at him wide eyed, entranced by how powerful his words were. Unable to find the words, she leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft, slow, gentle kiss that conveyed her most intimate feelings that she knew were reciprocated.

"I don't want to go back to the Potters'," she told him, resting her forehead against his. "This is your baby too, and I want you to get to be there for everything. From the crazy mood swings and midnight cravings to the first time we bring home our son or daughter. You deserve to be there, Draco."

With a smile alighting his face, Draco rose to his feet and helped her up. "Let's go home."


	16. Epilogue

Final chapter, folks. I want to say thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed and favorited and not written mean things to me. I truly appreciate all of it, and it's what drives me to continue writing. Enjoy!

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Epilogue  
Hermione stared out the front window watching as Draco spun their son, Carter, around in the air. She could hear the gleeful laughs of the little boy, see the smile that lit up Draco's eyes. Her eyes met her son's, eyes that were so much like his father's, and she couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips when he waved joyously to her. Draco turned and flashed her a smile before making his way inside with Carter safely tucked in his arms. Hermione moved away from the window to open the front door for them.

"Did you have fun?" she asked, taking Carter from Draco.

"So, so much," the two year old exclaimed. Hermione kissed his round and rosy cheek as Draco mussed his brown locks.

"And you?" she asked Draco, already knowing his answer.

Draco rested his hand on her lower back as the small family moved deeper into the house. He sighed in exhaustion as he took a seat on the sofa. "So, so much," he replied, with just slightly less enthusiasm than Carter had. "He wears me out though."

Hermione kissed Carter's head before setting him down on the carpet. She took a seat beside Draco and rested her head against his shoulder. "Yeah, but you love him," she murmured.

Draco nodded his agreement and kissed the top of her head. "I love you too," he whispered, taking her hand. His thumb rubbed the band of the diamond she wore on her left ring finger. He smiled as he remembered the day he proposed.

Draco had just returned home from St. Mungo's to find Hermione asleep on the living room sofa with Carter in his bassinet beside her. He checked on his three month old son, finding his eyes wide open as he stared up, fascinated by his father. Carter cooed, grabbing at Draco's thumb as the older man stroked the baby's soft face.

"Such a good boy," Draco murmured, "letting your mummy get some rest."

"Until his daddy slammed the front door too loudly and disturbed what little peace she had," Hermione quipped, her voice hoarse. She blinked to clear the sleep from her eyes and smiled up at Draco. He wore a look of guilt as he towered over her. "How was your meeting?" she asked.

Reaching into his pocket, Draco pulled out a piece of parchment similar to the one he'd given her eleven months ago.

Hermione unfolded it and smiled wider. "One year sober," she read. "I'm so proud of you." She stood up and hugged him tightly.

Draco returned the gesture, but pulled away seconds later. "There's something else I want to give you," he said, reaching into his other pocket. His hand remained there as she eyed him warily. "Just let me get this out before you say anything," he added, nervously rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. She nodded that she would remain silent, and he cleared his throat and proceeded.

"I know our start was rocky, really rocky. We hated each other as kids, and even as adults we couldn't seem to get along." He produced a short laugh as he remembered the night he climbed into her bed. "But when I needed you, really needed you, you never once hesitated to come to my rescue. You're my best friend, Hermione, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." He pulled a diamond ring from his pocket and held it up to her. "Will you marry me?"

Tears glistened in her eyes as she covered her mouth with her left hand. Her right hand rested on his shoulder for support as her legs turned to jelly beneath her. "Yes," she whispered, pulling her hand away from her mouth. She let it cup the back of his neck as she rose up to meet his lips.

They were married less than a year later, the day before Carter's first birthday. It was a small ceremony held on the Manor grounds. Harry and Ginny, Neville and Hannah, and Molly and Arthur Weasley were the only ones in attendance. There had been a long debate about inviting Adrian, but Draco won out in the end. Hermione conceded, fearful that old jealousies could re-arise that would be detrimental to her fiance's recovery.

Carter's tinkling laugh drew him from his reveries. "Coming," he said happily. He bounded over to his father, resting his hands on Draco's knees. Draco gladly picked him up, settling the small boy on his right leg.

"Who's coming, buddy?" he inquired, tightening his hold on Carter as he began to bounce with excitement.

"Jimmy," Carter replied.

Draco glanced at his wife, expecting an explanation. Hermione, hesitant to provide one, scooted away from him.

"Ginny and Harry are coming over," she finally told him after receiving a glowering stare from Draco. "She said they have news."

Draco shook his head and smiled. "I have ten galleons that says she's pregnant again," he replied.

Before Hermione could scold him, Harry and Ginny stepped out of their fireplace, James safely holding onto Harry. Their son, a spitting image of Harry, wiggled around until his father put him down. Pleasantries were exchanged before Hermione demanded they tell her their news.

"We're pregnant," Ginny exclaimed, unable to contain her jubilation.

Draco merely held out his hand, awaiting his wife's payment. Hermione pushed it away as she stood to hug her friends. "We should toast," Hermione suggested, excusing herself to the kitchen. She returned with four flutes and sparkling cider. "Sorry, it's the hardest thing we keep in the house," she said to Harry when she noticed his frown that told her sparkling apple cider wouldn't be his first choice of drink.

"It's fine," he replied, glancing quickly at Draco who began to pour. "How's he doing?"

Hermione smiled. "Three years last month," she told him. "I never thanked you for helping him. I'm not sure we'd be together now if you hadn't."

Harry gave her a sheepish smile as he squeezed her shoulders. "You're still my best friend, Hermione. You deserve to be happy," he said. Draco handed him a glass, which Harry promptly rose. "To happiness," he toasted.

"To Harry and Ginny," Draco said, raising his glass.

"And me," James interrupted.

"Me too, Daddy?" Carter asked.

"And to Carter and James," Draco added before they all took a sip.

Hours later, after dinner had been served and the Potters left, Draco tucked Carter into his bed.

"Love me, Daddy?" he asked sleepily. His eyes were already closing as Draco kissed his forehead.

"Always, buddy," Draco murmured softly.

"And Mama?"

Draco smiled. "Mama too. Go to sleep now." Carter nodded and rolled onto his other side to sleep. With one final glance at his son, Draco left the nursery for the master bedroom. Hermione rested on the bed, her hand atop the small bump that was already beginning to grow.

"Did you get him down okay?" she asked, sighing contently as he lay down beside her and pulled her to him. Opening her eyes, she saw him nod.

"Why didn't you tell them?" he asked, gently caressing the swell of her stomach.

Hermione shrugged. "Didn't want to ruin their news," she replied. A solemn look crossed his face as he watched his hand move across her stomach. "What's the matter?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged, settling deeper into the mattress. "Do you ever worry that you love someone so much that there might not be enough room in your heart to love someone else too?" he asked.

"No," she answered honestly, her brow furrowing as his frown deepened. "And I don't think you have to worry about it either. You can love Carter and me and the new baby all at the same time. Your heart has grown, Draco Malfoy."

Draco cast a hopeful smile her way. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "I've never known you to be wrong before."

The End.


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